The Adventures of Sly Cooper: War Stories
by No Satisfaction
Summary: A small collection of stories. This collection revolves around the topic of war.


**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own anything to do with Sly Cooper, not even the Adventures...comic title. The title was used for whatever reason blah blah blah. And I also DO NOT own the rights of For Whom the Bell Tolls, which gave me the idea for this specific fic. Also, the Montenegran Civil War was made up by me.**

* * *

The Bridge of Montenegro

Part 1

"Glad you could join us Cooper," General Barkley said, extending his hand to the raccoon that stood before him. "As you know I got a mission for you and your team."

"Well I hope it's not another train like we did in Pluzine," Sly Cooper said.

"Naw!" Barkley replied. "This one's much better suited for your taste. The Durdevica Tara Bridge span." Barkley pointed to marking on the sprawling map of Montenegro. It was littered with a chaotic jumble of markers indicating enemy troop movements and the locations of his own army. "I need you to take Durdevica out…"

"Forgive my interruption," Sly interjected, he raised his hand up to silence him. "You should know by now that my team and I work only at our own discretion, I need to know the importance of blowing that bridge."

"I was getting to that," Barkley jammed a cigar in his mouth, taking out a worn and dented lighter from his pocket and lighting it. "First of all, you and I both know that kicking the damned tyrannical fascists out of Montenegro will be a handful. Already we managed to take back the Pluzine, Savnik, and some of the Zabljak regions. But we're planning to blitz southeast, and take up the rest of Zabljak head straight into Pljevlja, cutting off General Murdoch's forces. The problem is that much of his reinforcements are anticipating this sort of attack and are poised in the northwest sector of Mojkovac. The bridge is located at the crossroads between Zabljak, Pljevlja and Mojkovac. If Murdoch's forces get across that bridge, they'll be able to drive us back into Pluzine, and it already took us nearly a year to get this far! That bridge cannot be left standing Cooper. Murdoch must not get across the Tara River, and the Durdevica Bridge is the only way he can take to launch a successful counterattack."

"Don't worry Barkley," Sly began. "As long as you can supply my explosives expert, Bentley, with the proper amount of explosives, you can say that that bridge is as good as destroyed. All I need to know now is if there will be any pockets of the resistance my team may be able to join up with. After all, three guys to one army seems very unfair."

"Fortunately," Barkley grunted, jamming his cigar into the side of the table, putting it out. "Last time I checked, there was group in that area, leader's name is Gronk, not a born Montenegrin, but he might as well be. He's very good. But he might not be there anymore. The last time I checked, it had been nearly a month ago.

"That's all" Sly said. He extended his hand to the badger. "Hopefully I'll see you later. Provided I'm not in box city by then."

"Just remember this, Cooper," Barkley shook his hand. "Don't blow the bridge until the attack. That's within a month. You'll know when the attack happens. Just watch for our bombers in the sky. Good luck."

"I'll need it."

* * *

The Tara Valley was a massive crevice carved through the Montenegro countryside by the Tara River, the steep sides prohibited safe travel up and down the valley, with the only sign of man being the Durdevica Bridge, a massive arced bridge positioned at the crossroads between Zabljak, Pljevlja and Mojkovac regions of Montenegro.

"What a sight she is," Bentley, the team's demolition expert gawked. "One of the largest bridges in Europe, and we get the pleasure of putting 'er on the bottom of the canyon."

"Geeze," Murray murmured. "We finally get a challenge. Look at how many of those armed soldiers are there. There must be at least a dozen!"

"We've been through worse," Sly said. "Besides, we just need to lay low for nearly a month, then we blow the sumbitch to kingdom come, and get the hell out of here faster than a Dusenburg rubbed with cheetah blood."

"Well, I'm bored already," Bentley said. "I already have a damn good idea of how we blow the bridge."

"Tell it to me later," Sly said. There was a rustle in the bushes nearby. "Who's there."

"Who're you?" a deep voice asked.

"Sly Cooper, soldier in the United States Expeditionary Force," Sly crouched down, putting his hand on the sidearm clipped to his belt.

"Ah, Cooper," the voice said. "I've been expecting you," a large gorilla toting a Lee-Enfield stepped out into the clearing. "You can put your gun away… and tell your buddy to put away the grenade, we're on the same side. I'm Gronk."

"Ah, Gronk," Sly sighed. "I was hoping you hadn't up root and hunt fascists somewhere else."

"Well we didn't, follow me," Gronk ordered, motioning for the gang to follow him through the heavily wooded area behind him.

It became apparent that what Gronk wanted the gang to see was his base camp, situated in a rather unusual clearing, the trees tilting over to allow a vast cleared space yet remain completely hidden from the air. At one end of the clearing was a cave, enclosed by a wooden wall at the entrance with a door.

"Welcome to headquarters," Gronk said. He looked up at the sky, now an orange glow streaked with wisps of clouds. "Supper should be ready any minute, you can smell it…"

"Smells AWESOME!" Murray yelled. "I can tell right away if its crap or not, and it is not!"

"It's true," Sly muttered. "Murray can is able determine food quality off the bat like that."

Gronk shook his head. "Not impressive."

Murray narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Jerk."

"Dinner!" a very much feminine voice yelled from the open doorway of the cave-shelter.

It was then Sly noticed that there were a few other of Gronk's men were lounging around the clearing, gone unnoticed until they sat up in anticipation for this night's meal. Sly then watched as a beautiful female fox came out of the cave, holding a steaming pot while managing to balance a loaf of bread on the edge of it. Sly gawked, resulting Bentley to frown and shake his head, while Murray on the other hand caught on and nudged Sly encouragingly. She put the pot down on top a tree stump, prompting Sly to walk up in her direction.

"May I ask who are you," he asked her, making the fox turn to face him with slight surprise.

"Her name is Carmelita," Gronk muttered, failing to give the fox a chance to answer. "She was a some sort of…ah…tourist until this war happened. We rescued her from the firing squad. Hell of a cook and a remarkably good fighter too."

"Please to meet you Carmelita," Sly smiled, taking her slightly extended hand in his own and kissing the backside of it.

"The pleasure should be all mine," she replied, blushing.

"Time to eat!" Gronk yelled to no one in particular.

The large group gathered around the pot, ripping up pieces of bread while at the same time taking their forks and spoons and eating straight out of the pot. "Youse mind explainin' to us what three newcomers and several packs of dynamite are here?" one of Gronk's men asked.

"I'm Sly Cooper of the United States Expeditionary Force…"

"Ah…great…a yank."

"…let me finish first!" Sly growled. "I'm here to blow the bridge."

"Durdevica?" Gronk asked. "No chance in hell."

"Excuse me?"

"Your not blowing that bridge. You might as well make it your mission to get killed or die trying."

"All I'll need is a few men to take the bridge…"

"No. I'm not risking my men for such meaningless task."

"Gronk," Bentley began. "I already worked out all the statistics. By coordinating an attack on the bridge perfectly, we can take that bridge with minimal resistance and blow it before any reinforcements can arrive to take it back."

"I'm not having this kind of discussion while I'm eating," Gronk said. "Later. We talk about this later."

Sly looked around. Sitting directly across from him was Carmelita, and for a brief moment he could have swore she was making eyes at him.

* * *

Later that night, Sly was sitting against a tree, keeping his eye on his team's supplies while still sitting far enough from the clearing that the arguments between Bentley and Gronk were barely audible. Bentley was always the one brought in coax one into doing his bidding. So far Gronk had not relent on his thoughts of attacking the Durdevica Tara Bridge.

"May I call you Sly?"

Sly looked up. Carmelita was standing over him. "Come, sit with me." He patted on ground next to him. She complied.

"So you are American?"

"Yep," Sly said. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you'd like company…"

"No, I mean, what are you doing here, with Gronk, the guys to be a grade-A as…"

"I have nowhere to go," Camrelita frowned. "It's rather hard to flee a country when you are surround for miles by the enemy."

"Nonsense, Carmelita. It won't be that hard. I managed to sneak behind the enemy lines to get here. After all, we're guerilla fighters, going up against a rather too-organized, too-strict army. I could get you out of here. After all, it's easier to get out as it is getting in."

"You'd do that for me?" Carmelita asked. "You don't even know me. We only met an hour ago."

"Should I have to know a beautiful woman if I want to help her?" Carmelita blushed from this.

"Please, you're making me feel uncomfortable."

"Well you don't act like it," Sly smiled. "In fact, I think you're leading me on."

"No!" Carmelita gasped. "You're leading me on!"

"How can I possibly be doing that!" Sly exclaimed. "You were the one who was giving me looks during dinner. I wouldn't be surprised if you were trying to telepathically send me messages."

"Puh-leas! I bet you were thinking that up by yourself!"

"Nope."

"Oh? Then what did you have in mind then?"

"This." Sly leaned over and kissed her full on the lips.

Carmelita's face flushed, and she appeared to have stopped breathing. And then a smile appeared on her face. "Is that the best you can do?"

* * *

**Hooray! I'm back. And I'm kicking off my comeback with a series of short stories. Actually, I doubt some of them will be short, such as this one. This story is basically a Sly Cooper version of Hemingway's classic For Whom the Bell Tolls, but I'll try to add as much of my own stuff into this. **

**I'll be putting up a few of these collections, three stories per collection, and all to a specific theme, and this one is war.**

**Additionally, I've updated my profile with some news about what's going on, and I'll also try to frequently update both stories and profile to keep the audience in the loop.**


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